Understanding
by Lysa-uk
Summary: Buffy tries to explain to Willow her feelings after returning from L.A., set during Dead Mans Party. Slight implications of W/X


Title: Understanding

Author: Lysa-uk

Rating: PG

Feedback: What do you think? Please give generously. lysaharris@fsmail.net

Distribution: If you want it, let me know.

Spoilers: Dead Man's Party, some of Season 2

Summary: Buffy is trying to tell Willow how she felt when she ran away to L.A. after killing Angel.

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon/UPN/Mutant Enemy etc. Please don't sue, I have nothing.

Notes: This little scene came to me when I was watching the episode mentioned above. This is my version of the beginning of the conversation held between Buffy and Willow in the last scene in the coffee shop. I've started it with my own stuff and carried it through to the end of the scene. It may not track, but it's just something that took me about an hour or so. It's a little melodramatic and angsty on Buffy's part, but it implies a lot on Willow's part.

Willow and Buffy headed to the free table in the Espresso Pump coffee house, each placing their refreshing hot beverages on the shiny table as they each slid onto their stools.

"So, you haven't heard back from the School Board?" Willow asked Buffy as she took a sip of her drink.

"Nope," Buffy said dismally. "But when mom talked to the Superintendent of Schools they pretty much said I should be okay. They're just waiting to speak to Snyder."

"It'll be nice to have you back in school," Willow told her. "Oz and Xander are great, but I need girlie company."

"What about Cordelia?"

Willow raised her eyebrows at Buffy in ridicule.

"Sorry. I see what you mean."

Willow smiled. "I mean, we've back at school for a couple of days now, but it shouldn't be too hard to catch up. I can help, maybe tutor you if you need it."

"Thanks," Buffy told her, sincerely grateful. "Will…" she began nervously, almost awkwardly. "Can I talk to you?"

"Isn't that what we're doing now?"

"Well, yeah, but…" she took a breath to calm herself. "What you said in my room…you know, the stuff about why I had to leave?"

"Yeah, I remember," Willow said, guiltily finding her own hands ever-more interesting as she watched them, her face reddening. "I'm really sorry that I-"

"Don't be sorry," Buffy told her seriously. "You were right. I should have talked to someone, to you, about everything. But I'd like to try to explain now, if that's okay."

"Sure," Willow said understandingly. "If you don't want to, that's okay too, though. I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"I don't," Buffy explained quietly. "But I think I need to. Who knows, maybe it'll help."

"If you're sure."

"I am," Buffy said, shifting in her seat to find a more comfortable position. "It's hard to know exactly where to start."

"Start wherever you want," Willow told her sympathetically.

"When I went away…to L.A…my head was just in pieces. I didn't know what else to do. Being in Sunnydale…it was just too hard. L.A. was easier. Lonelier."

"So why didn't you come back?"

"Because that's what I needed. What I deserved."

"Buffy, you didn't-"

"I did," Buffy told her, cutting her off. "What happened to Angel was my fault."

"You didn't know about the curse."

"No, maybe not. But the scary thing is that even if we had known…I'm not sure that things would have been any different. I was – still am – so in love with him." Her eyes became distant at the thought of him, and she blinked hard to keep the tears away. "I needed the time away to deal with what happened, what I had to do. When we first found out that Angel had lost his soul…I didn't think it was possible to feel any worse than I did then. I had to go on living my life, trying to kill the one thing in the world that meant the most to me. And it was my fault. That night at Angel's…he wasn't sure. I mean, I know he wanted to and I know he loved me, but it was me who reassured him that everything would be okay. When Angelus returned, my life changed. My whole world was broken apart, and I didn't know how to fix it."

"No one blamed you for what happened to Angel," Willow told her. "Well, maybe Cordelia…"

"I know," Buffy told her. "But I blamed me. That morning in the mansion…" she gulped back the panic that hit her every time she remembered that morning over three months ago. "The second I drove that sword through him…my heart broke forever. I watched him get sucked into Hell, and all I could think was that if I went into that vortex after him then maybe…maybe that pain that I felt inside would stop. I…I don't even know when I decided that I was leaving. I don't even remember thinking about it that much, but before I knew what was happening, there I was, standing in the L.A. bus depot, feeling like my heart had stopped beating – obviously that last part was a metaphor, seeing as I wasn't on the floor in a big dead heap. It just felt like there was this great big, black hole inside of me and it would never heal. And what was worse was knowing that I was the one who put it there. I suppose, in a way, I was looking for some kind of redemption. I thought that if…well, I don't know what I thought. It was like I was on auto-pilot. If I'm honest, I don't think I had any plans to come back at all."

"But you did," Willow told her softly. "And you're okay now – well, partially okay. I wish I could know how you felt. Maybe then I'd know the right thing to say to you. I feel useless, sitting here, nodding in the right places with an occasional nod of sympathy."

"The only way I can describe it is…" she looked at Willow carefully. "Imagine how you would have felt if it had been Oz who died?" she asked. "Who you had to kill?"

Willow felt a sharp pain in her chest and she looked at Buffy, almost guiltily, still finding it hard to understand.

Buffy saw her expression and looked down at her beverage. "Let me put it another way…" Buffy said softly. "…What if it had been Xander?"

That was when it hit her. She felt all the air go out of the room and her heart metaphorically stopped. She felt light-headed ass he struggled to remember to breathe deeply, the panic and pain overwhelming her in ways she never thought possible. The thought of Xander dying – albeit theoretically – was too much for to handle.

Buffy watched her friend and she covered Willow's panic-induced, sweaty hand with her own. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Willow jumped off her stool and fiercely hugged Buffy, tears silently falling down her cheeks as she fully understood the ramifications of what Buffy had done. She felt her own heart constrict in her chest, knowing that if Buffy had felt even half of what she was feeling right there and then, there was nothing she could do or say to get her through this. "I'm so sorry…" she whispered as she felt Buffy hug her back. She took her hand as she took her seat again, looking at her through teary eyes. "There's nothing I can say that's going to make this better for you."

"I know," Buffy said. "And I don't want you to. I just…I need you to be there."

"I am," Willow told her, squeezing Buffy's hand. "One hundred percent there. I'm so sorry that you had to go through that alone."

"It was my choice, and I'm dealing," Buffy told her. "Anyway, let's change the subject. Depression doesn't really go with my outfit." She let go of Willow's hand and took a sip of her drink. "Tell me about the magic. Are you all big Wicca witch now?"

"No," Willow told her. "I mean, I'm not a full-fledged witch. That takes years. I just did a couple of pagan blessings, and a teeny glamour to hide a zit."

"Does it scare you?" Buffy asked her.

"It has," Willow told her. "I tried to communicate with the spirit world, and I **so** wasn't ready for that. It's like being pulled apart inside… Plus, I blew the power for our whole block. Big scare."

"I wish I could have been there with you," Buffy told her sincerely. 

"Me too. I really freaked out."

"I'm sorry."                                           

"It's okay," Willow told her. "I understand you having to bail. I can forgive that. I have to make allowances for what you're going through, and be a grown up about it."

Buffy couldn't help but grin. "You're really enjoying this whole moral superiority thing, aren't you?"

"It's like a drug!" Willow exclaimed.

"Fine," Buffy said with an amused smile. "Okay. I'm the bad. I can take my lumps – for a while."

"Alright," Willow conceded. "I'll stop giving you a hard time."

Buffy smiled.

"Runaway."

"Willow!"

"I'm sorry," Willow said, sounding sincere. "Quitter!"

"Whiner!"

"Bailer!"

"Harpy!"

"Delinquent!"

"Tramp!"

"Bad seed!"

"Witch!"

"Freak!"

Voila! The End.


End file.
